


maroon reds and muted yellows (why can i only see gray?)

by guccieyelash



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Blood, Character Death, Grief/Mourning, Introspection, M/M, Metaphors, Minecraft, Murder, No Romance, Painting, Prison, Sad Ending, Spoiler for the streams on March 1st, Spoilers, Violence, george girl power era LMAO, it's only mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-14 11:21:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29791140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guccieyelash/pseuds/guccieyelash
Summary: Tommy was to the world what a paintbrush is to a canvas. His palette was life itself.From the moment he arrived at the SMP he brought color to every corner of it. Jarring reds and sunshine yellows, deepened grays, and sinking blues, Tommy filled it all in. He painted the very sky itself, almost dotting the stars that shone through the inking surface of the night.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson, mentioned
Comments: 15
Kudos: 163





	maroon reds and muted yellows (why can i only see gray?)

**Author's Note:**

> spoilers for tommy's march first lore stream. read at ur own risk :)

Tommy was to the world what a paintbrush is to a canvas. His palette was life itself. 

From the moment he arrived at the SMP he brought color to every corner of it. Jarring reds and sunshine yellows, deepened grays, and sinking blues, Tommy filled it all in. He painted the very sky itself, almost dotting the stars that shone through the inking surface of the night. 

Tommy stood up for the weak, but he also made friends with the powerful. He was the one who was brave enough to look the evilest in the eye and say what everyone else was too cowardly to say. Tommy pushed the boundaries until they snapped, he painted outside the lines and created his own designs until the previous artwork was nothing but an imagination. 

When word went out that Tommy had been murdered inside the prison, the world lost all its color. The red turned maroon, the yellow muted, grays began taking over, and blue seeped itself into the hearts of everyone. The world was once again an empty canvas, except this time there was no hope of a young artist to come and fill it. 

About a day after the death, a brother was seen striding on the Prime Path. His netherite sword shone threateningly in his hand, boots clacking against the wood as citizens watched pathetically from the sidelines. His eyes were completely covered, and a shield dragged against the ground with every step. He stopped in front of the smooth stone house that sat on the corner of the path, laying one hand on the wall. 

His head fell down, and slowly, the pigman’s helmet slipped off. The armored hybrid fell to his knees, and for the first time ever, everyone heard the cries of Technoblade. 

There was an abundance of flowers after he left. 

A father was spotted flying above the ruins. Graceful wings, still a bit damaged from a previous escapade, flapped against the dimmed sun. Sluggishly, as though an angel fell from the sky, the man landed at the bottom of the pit. He stayed there even after the night came, watching selfishly for the stars that his son once painted for the world. 

They never came. 

No one slept that night, as broken screams for a second son that would never return echoed through the lands. Philza was left with one life, and now, one child. 

People watched a best friend play music on a bench. Young hands, splattered with scars of a past time’s war, inserted a disk that wasn’t quite the same as the others, but good enough for the moment. The jukebox sang a ghostly tune, wallows of loss knocking on everyone’s doorsteps, reminding the people of what they’d lost. 

Strangely enough, no tears fell down the boy’s face. His eyes were glazed over, staring into the sun that didn’t shine the same as the rest of the world grieved. His foot tapped along with the melody, keeping up with the beats as he sat. 

Tubbo knew though, deep inside, that what he’d lost wasn’t as replaceable as the disks that were locked inside an enderchest— never to be played again. 

A lover that belonged to the monster was stood in front of the prison. His goggles were off, red-rimmed eyes out for display. In his hand was a sword. With determination in his step, he entered, looking the warden dead in his eyes. 

For once in his life, the warden didn’t require all the rules to be fulfilled. Screams came out of the prison, but a few seconds later, they went quiet again. 

George had walked in with a ring and left with the finger empty. In his other hand, however, was the head of a man that once terrorized the SMP. Blood dripped from his clothes and from the blade. The warden walked behind him, pocketing prison keys that wouldn’t be used again for a very long time. 

The world was never quite as vibrant as it was before— when an equally vibrant soul dumped buckets of color into everyone’s lives. The blue sky was nothing without the round mirrors that rested in the eyes of the artist, the stars nothing without their twin running on the Earth with them on the skin of the boy. The sun’s rays had nothing to reflect off of, as their embers were no longer trapped on the hair of their creator. 

But sometimes, if you looked hard enough, you’d see paint stains on every corner of the world. Maybe it was just a coincidence, but others believed it was simply the signature of the artist; signing off one more masterpiece. 

**Author's Note:**

> hey lmao anyways so i'm not freaking out or anything but haha yeah tommy's dead oops 
> 
> thank you lexi and ana for helping me tag (kudos to ash for the amazing title suggestions)


End file.
